


Ashes to Ashes

by MDaVinci



Category: Far Cry 4
Genre: Drug Use, M/M, Minor Character Death, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pining, Slow Build, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-28
Updated: 2015-03-25
Packaged: 2018-03-15 16:55:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3454748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MDaVinci/pseuds/MDaVinci
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Starts after the alternate ending where Ajay stays and waits for Pagan. What story would lie ahead...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> ((For the readers of Belonging Here: Sorry for not updating recently! I swear I'm still gonna finish it, but right now I'm gonna spent my time a little more on this one and school!))
> 
> Welcome dear readers, thanks for wanting to check this out <3 In this story I'm gonna tell how the life of Pagan Min and Ajay Ghale change irrevocably after they finally meet each other.
> 
> (Hasn't been beta'd yet)

The smell of crab rangoon still drifted through Pagan’s little palace, along with the distant sound of meditative bells being rung far away over the mountains. The curtains waved graciously by the movements of the wind. Ajay had stood up from his chair in the room, but hadn’t left yet. He was struck by the beauty of the place, the serenity which was sitting deeply in the bones of this country.

Kyrat.

If only the sound of Darpan’s screaming hadn’t intervened Ajay’s stream of thought, he would’ve thought Pagan wasn’t so bad after all. The man was a contradiction by itself, that was for certain. Asian blondie. The King in a pink suit. Ridiculously enough, those sounded like bad pornos.

Ajay prodded at the food in front of him, wondering about what Pagan had said to him just seconds before. “Now your mother. Your mother understood me in a way no one else did.” Pagan had continued talking about things Ajay hardly understood. Things about Ishwari loving Pagan, accusations towards the Golden Path, whatever that was. And right after that, the king had decided to stick a knife in, what he’d called Darpan, Ajay’s ‘plus one’.

Ajay turned his head to look through the room, too afraid of a quick assassination if he were to move otherwise. Darpan didn’t sound very far away, maybe he could look for him. Pagan’s words echoed through his mind, however: “Please, stay right here. Enjoy the crab rangoon. Don’t move, I will be right back.”

The creaking sound of the floorboards underneath Ajay made him jump and he quickly turned around to see Pagan having returned, his pink jacket having been discarded as he was only dressed in a white shirt now. His hair looked a little disheveled, but fashionably so, nonetheless.

“Oh!” the king called, holding up his hands as he praised his guest, “Fan-bloody-tastic, you, sir, are a gentleman. We saw terrorists in the area and… yadda, yadda.”

Said guest raised an eyebrow, about to ask what was going on, but Pagan interrupted him by pointing to the table and walking up to it.

“The crab rangoon, right? It’s—” Darpan’s cries and howls broke off any further comments on the dinner.

Pagan sighed. “Fabulous. Mhm! Well, come on! Let’s go!”

Ajay stood up cautiously, holding his mother’s ashes close to his chest. He’d already seen Pagan licking out one stripe of it, he wouldn’t have anyone touch her again. Pagan and him were let out of the palace by multiple guards in tight fitting clothing. Ajay would’ve laughed if he hadn’t felt so damn unsure about how long Pagan would let him live. Everyone in the castle seemed to be dressed to some weird fashion-standard only Pagan had insight into.

The king started rambling again as the doors opened to the garden, with one big helicopter right in the middle. An odd contrast, but not a surprising one.

“… And that’s when I realised women were such complex creatures. Maybe Ishwari wasn’t the only woman as complex as she was, but she was… special. Utterly, decisively special.” he let out a sad sigh and stepped into the open helicopter, helping Ajay into it by taking his hand and pulling him up. “And like a said before, she could say she loved me and she would mean it. I can’t do that. Nor can you. Men only really love you in hindsight, when too much distance has built up.”

Ajay wondered about the meaning behind his words. Was it true? Fuck, he definitely remembered the heartache he felt after losing mom. He hadn’t realised he’d loved her so much and needed her as much as he did until after she had died. There were so many secrets Ishwari had kept from him, but only ever because she wanted to protect Ajay. And wasn't there just as much Ajay had wanted to tell her in return?

“Distant memories, my boy?” Pagan asked him, sounding almost rueful. Ajay hadn’t realised he had been staring into nothingness for probably five long minutes, mulling over his mother’s death.

Ajay shrugged in reply, deciding to stay silent. He wasn’t much a man of words. Emotions were difficult for him to voice, especially with a damn psychopath right next to him. Ah, but even if the latter wasn’t there, he would still have difficulties with it. Ajay already found it hard to express what he thought to mom. He had done it far too little.

A hand came to rest on his shoulder, warm and comforting. “We all have those. You’re not the only one grieving. I miss her just like you do.”

Ajay frowned, his mind insistent on shrugging Pagan’s hand off, yet he didn’t. He did snap back at Pagan, though: “How would you know? Have you any idea what’s been going on in my life before this?”

Pagan pursed his lips in thought, removing his hand from Ajay’s shoulder on his own accord, he placed them in his own lap, “I did my research, yes. Quite a story, don’t you think?”

“Don’t sugarcoat it.” Ajay bit, looking out of the helicopter. The fact he had to yell a little to let Pagan hear him over the sound of the chopper let off the steam just a little.

“It’s not that bad, Ajay. _You_ didn’t kill your father.” a sharp, humorous laugh filled the air, but his voice steeled quickly afterwards, “You’re not the only one with guilt or regret, trust me.”

And maybe that was true. Maybe Pagan had wanted to have said something before Ishwari had left Kyrat so suddenly. Wasn’t that what he had been referring to with his insightful quote about distance?

The chopper flew over more than just a few mountains before they landed next to what looked like another Kyrati palace.

“Look at how neat we got here, it’s like a three-point landing.” Pagan smiled slowly, his gaze intense upon Ajay. “You know, part of me is surprised your mother asked for you to bring her all the way back here. Ah,” the king stood up and hopped out of the helicopter, still looking graceful as he did, “Thank you, Kamran.”

“You want me to follow you?” Ajay muttered doubtfully, raising his eyebrows at the king.

Pagan looked at him exasperatedly, “Jesus Christ, boy, the ashes aren’t going to scatter themselves.”

 Ajay ignored the mockery and stepped out carefully instead, looking at his surroundings. They were atop of a mountain, a very small house stood a few miles away from the palace, little flags of all kinds of colours were tied to the top, waving gently in the wind.

Pagan’s question surprised him as the man turned around, looking unsure, “Did your mother ever tell you about your father?” his voice was surprisingly softer than it had been before.

“Never, no.” he shook his head curtly.

“Mohan. The great protector of the Golden Path.” a small chuckle escaped Pagan’s lips, before he leaned in to Ajay, “He was a cunt. He whored your mother out, sent her to spy on me. Hm, but we fell in love, had a child… And that is when Mohan showed his true colours.” the two of them stopped in front of the small house, “He drove you and your mother away, even killed your sister! Laksmana. Which brings us here.”

Ajay looked at the building while Pagan touched the door with utmost care, his voice sounded emotional, if you could call it that, “Laksmana shouldn’t be alone anymore.” a smile spread on his lips, “I’m so glad that we’re finally back together.” Pagan nodded his head towards the entrance of, what Ajay now realised was, a tomb. “After you.”

That was it then? Ajay stepped in, forcing himself not to look back at what Pagan was doing. He heard the door closing behind himself and felt relieved. His fingers were wrapped tightly around his mom’s ashes, but he kept it close to his chest while walking towards the altar. There it was, Laksmana Min’s ashes. So that was what the letter had meant, Laksmana was his half-sister.

Ajay closed his eyes, surrounding himself in the smell and sight of the Kyrati tomb, the bells that gently made their tingling sounds and the scent of incense throughout the room invading his nostrils. For a second here, Ajay felt at peace. He hoped his mother felt the same, wherever she was. He placed the ashes on the alter, next to Lakshmana’s. His mother’s words came back to my as if by a spell.

_“I love you and will always be with you.” - **Mom**_

He sighed, rubbing in his eyes and looking up at Lakshmana’s portrait. She had been so young. How could any man kill an innocent child? His father, out of all people…

With shoulders squared, Ajay braced himself, sighing as he did. Mom was at peace now, he’d done what he had to. He turned himself around and opened the door, being blinded by the sun for just a second.

“Ah good,” Pagan’s voice came from where he was leaning against the big helicopter, “You feel better now? Get it out of your system?”

Ajay walked up to him, nodding ever so slightly.

“Good,” Pagan said resolutely, “Maybe now we can finally shoot some goddamn guns.”


	2. Chapter 2

Ajay sat down on the couch, letting himself sag down in the rich cushions and silks that were draped all over it. He was silent. More so than before, but Pagan could see the boy was changing, his posture relaxing ever so slightly as he took in their surroundings.

So it had been a good idea to trust him with the painful truth about Lakshmana. What a delight.

Pagan hummed, delighted at his own wit and knowledge of his stepson, as he poured them both a large cup of brandy.

“There you go, Ajay,” he purred, placing the glass in front of his boy as gracefully as he could muster. “Are you so flabbergasted by the pure beauty of what is to be yours?”

Ajay shot his eyes up into what could easily be described as a glare, even as his frown deepened, “What are you talking about?” he asked warily.

Pagan smiled sweetly, taking a sip from the brandy and allowing himself to drown in the anticipation of what was to come. He loved making Ajay wait, seeing as it made the boy regard him with such curiosity. Pagan therefore took another swig out of his glass before settling it back down, letting out a long sigh.

“All of it, obviously. Kyrat. It’s yours. Well, yours-to-be, truly.” the king sighed ruefully, “I don’t mean to get all existential here, but, ah, I do not wish to keep this kingdom all to myself. Better to share to fruit before it’s rotten, right?”

Ajay opened his mouth before closing it again quickly, his eyes wider than before. Like that, Pagan could see the resemblance even more. As striking as Ishwari, that deep brown colour.

The silence stayed, only the rhythmic jingles of small bells drifted through the air, calming as well as it was melancholic. The two often seemed intertwined.

“Why?” Ajay softly asked, he almost looked sad and it worried Pagan, though he wouldn’t show it, “Why to me? We hardly have anything in common.”

“The past.” Pagan answered simply, quicker than he had wanted to answer. He had waited years, anticipated having this conversation, taking a different route in his head each time. Pagan had expected Ajay’s questions, but he was suddenly struck with how bone-deep the truth lied.

A bell rung and Pagan stood up joyfully, hauling Ajay up with him. The sudden twist in the air was surprisingly swift. “Dinner time!” the king called, smiling, “Did you know Ishwari made these paintings? I saw you admire them before. She loved using nature’s ingredients to form her own paint. I used to say it was ridiculous and I’d buy her about ten gallons of chemical paint. Now that she’s gone, I finally understand the appeal…”

—

It wasn’t like it had all been incredibly surprising, Ajay thought. Well, maybe it really was, but Pagan seemed to be an extrovert by nature. One who makes surprises as easily as he breathes the air. So, yes, a surprise-gift in a large box would have been obvious. A whole kingdom, however, could hardly be wrapped up with a bow on top.

Ajay got pulled with Pagan into the dining room, where they ate in silence. Well, Pagan had started talking and talking, never stopping, but Ajay thought he’d noticed he wasn’t in the mood for talk, because the king soon stopped.

“Did mom ever…” Ajay gulped, placing his silver fork down on the table, “I mean, did mom let you see me? Or did you know me? What did she say she was planning on doing in America? Why didn’t, why didn’t she just fucking tell me I came from this place?”

Pagan’s raised eyebrows gave away his surprise, though he quickly masked it again by smiling, “Well, you’re talkative suddenly. Saved up all your words for now, hm? Quite a smart decision.”

Ajay bit his lip hard, anger coming through him in small waves, “Back in America, I realised I was weird at the age of nine when I started going to another school. I’d never known I was different, yet there they were calling me names for having eyes like a fucking siamese cat!” he ran a hand through his hair, vaguely noticing how Pagan had stood up, “As the years passed it got worse, I realised I was an entirely different breed. That’s what they called me at least. I just don’t understand why mom took me there, why—”

His rage subsided as he felt two warm hands on his shoulder, curling around the muscle and massaging it gently. Pagan’s voice sounded close and calm, “She wanted what’d be best for you. Big chances in America. Only winners in America. Ishwari heard those things, and thought only of you. She couldn’t have known, Ajay.”

Ajay nodded, pressing his eyes shut and clenching his teeth. He felt more like a small boy than an adult and it him feel so weak and so… failed.

Pagan continued, his voice still as soft as before, “I hadn’t known either. I wish I could’ve talked it through.”

“She could’ve just explained it all. I almost got into prison for hanging around the wrong type of people, they promised me so much,” he couldn’t believe he was opening his heart to someone closer to a complete stranger than a close family, even though it felt different, “I’m not sure if I should go back there. Mom’s here now. It feels like she led me here.”

He felt a small puff of air hitting his neck before the hands withdrew suddenly, making Ajay feel cold. He turned around to see what was going on, but Pagan was already pacing around the room and walking up to the bar, looking a little restless.

“I do so truthfully think,” the king started, ducking behind the bar and taking out a small box, “That it is bedtime for us both.”

As Ajay looked outside, he realised it was in fact already quite dark outside, a few stars already glittering in the sky. Emotions overtook him and he nodded frantically, wanting nothing more than to crawl into bed and rest his eyes, if only to escape the plaguing thoughts of his mother.

“A servant will escort you to your room. I have business to attend to.” Pagan promptly turned around and walked through the door, leaving Ajay alone for a minute or two before a servant walked in, as promised.

The servant was a young woman with long black hair, she spoke another language and seemed to notice only after a while that Ajay didn't understand a word she uttered. She apologised non-stop while bowing before continuing the walk to Ajay’s room. He was too tired to tell her it’s not a big deal, but he patted her shoulder a few times before collapsing on the bed and falling asleep as soon as he feels the luxurious blankets underneath him.

—

Pagan cursed himself, _damned_ himself till kingdom come, for his wandering mind. He’d thought he could handle the sweet intoxications of a little bit of brandy, but it seemed it had made his mind act out on its impulses after all. Luckily Ajay hadn’t noticed any of it, as fragile he had been pouring all of his emotions out over the table and unto the carpet and all over the floor and sticking to the walls and creeping over the plates and into the paintings.

Pagan shook his head, blinking at the visions he had. Usually cocaine didn’t give visions, but it was a nasty side-effect that came with taking it while being in such a depressed mood. It ought to elevate his being, make him feel superior and in charge again. It wasn’t working yet.

The balcony had a lovely sight out over the mountains, but he hadn’t been able to enjoy it in a long twenty years, probably.

“What to do with your wrecked mind, Pagan?” he asked himself, glancing down at the valley underneath him melancholically. It filled him with sadness just to think of what Kyrat had become. What _he_  had become.

“You almost kissed your stepson!” Pagan muttered, pulling a shocked face at himself in the mirror as he touched at his face, ran a hand over his cheeks and over the small wrinkles around his eyes.

He had held the boy’s shoulders, felt him relaxing, wanted nothing more than to be close and to be welcomed and to welcome him _home_. Kissing his neck had been an amazing idea until he realised it would mean losing Ajay to his own stupidity and he couldn’t have that. He’d already lost Ishwari that way, and he loved Ajay differently. Like he was a small light in such a dark world.

Maybe he could be close for a little while longer. He wouldn’t ask for more. He’d be honoured just to die by Ajay’s side. Yes. Stay close. No more. Die at his side.

’T was the last thought he had before passing out on his royal bed, a content feeling overtaking him urging him to a deep, dark sleep.


End file.
